


eight moments, eight chances, eight ways

by forbiddenquill



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, inspired by 8 Ways To Say I Love You by R. McKinley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 04:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4249356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forbiddenquill/pseuds/forbiddenquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The seven times Emily said "I love you" at the wrong moment, and the one time she finally got it right. </p><p>or, alternatively, Emily and Alison find their way back to each other again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	eight moments, eight chances, eight ways

**Author's Note:**

> Shower Harvey and LorenzNO do not exist in this fic, so kudos to me already. 
> 
> Also, I am in dire need of Emison and due to the lack of fics in this fandom, I've decided to take matters into my own hands.

**i.**

The alcohol is painfully hot at the base of her throat but Emily squeezes her eyes shut and keeps on drinking, mindful of the fact that it’s almost empty. A voice in her head is screaming at her to stop, to put the bottle down but _fuck_ it—she’s been through a lot. Drinking herself to death might not be the best answer to everything that’s gone down but if it offers the slightest bit of comfort, or even the tiniest bit of relief then fuck everything else.

She’s over at Hanna’s and the blonde is question is watching her carefully from across the room. Hanna knows better than to stop her. She, too, has had a major breakdown this week but has recovered quickly, mostly with the help of Caleb and her mom. Emily tries not to think about how Paige doesn’t even fully know what happened, and that besides her parents and friends, she doesn’t have anybody else for support.

Except for the bottle of whiskey in her hand.

“I’m sorry,” Emily says all of a sudden. She’s numb all over. Thank God Ms. Marin is out of town on a date with Ted this night. She has no idea what the older woman would say to her, much less to her mother.

Hanna looks up from her phone, eyebrows knitting together. “About what?” she asks.

Emily stares at the table surface hard enough to worry the blonde but before Hanna can move another step, she says, her voice cracking, “I’m sorry I got pissed at you when you started drinking because Alison and Caleb came back.”

Hanna shakes her head. “That was like over five months ago,” she mutters.

“I’m still sorry,” Emily continues, “You were going through a tough time and I just got pissed at you.”

Hanna walks around the counter until she’s standing next to Emily. She reaches forward and squeezes the brunette’s hand, smiling softly. Her clear, blue eyes are twinkling. “I forgave you a long time ago,” she says, firm and honest and Emily returns the smile, eternally glad that she’s got this one thing right.

Hanna’s gaze falls on the bottle and she sighs, reaching forward to pluck it from Emily’s hand.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” she says, laughing half-heartedly when Emily makes a sound of protest, reaching for the bottle again, “but believe me when I say that it won’t get any better. Sure, it’ll get you through the day but it won’t change anything.”

“I don’t _care_ ,” Emily says fiercely, “I just want to stop feeling things for once.”

Hanna grimly shakes her head. “You’ve had enough,” she states. She heads over to the cabinet and stashes the bottle away. Emily drops her face into her hands, feeling as if the entire world was swimming. She can hear Hanna talking about something but her head hurts too much and she feels too sick to even come up with a proper response. She settles for nodding and mumbling nonsense under her breath.

“Em?” Hanna touches her shoulder and Emily groans.

“Yeah?” she mutters.

“You okay there?”

“I’m fine.” Emily is a terrible liar apparently because Hanna obviously doesn’t buy it for one second.

“Come on, you’re going upstairs with me,” the blonde says, tugging at her hand and Emily’s too tired to fight back so she stumbles into a standing position and follows after her best friend, mournfully trudging up the stairs. She’s gotten drunk only a handful of times, once at a party Alison had dragged them into, twice when she and Maya were fighting and a couple more when she found out that Maya was dead. And now— _this_. With A gone, she can finally drop her guard down and act like a normal human being. One with problems so fucked up that nobody should be blaming her for turning to alcohol.

She walks into Hanna’s newly decorated room and collapses on the mattress. Hanna follows suit, kicking her shoes off and quietly running a hand through Emily’s hair.

“Do you still have nightmares?” Emily asks, her voice hushed.

“Yeah,” Hanna mumbles, “It’s too fucked up to even think about.”

Emily stares at the floor for a couple of seconds before she’s closing her eyes. Hanna hums, continuing to soothe her scalp and generally being a good friend.

“How’s Ali?” Hanna suddenly asks, her tone making it clear that the subject can be dropped if Emily wants.

Emily shifts. Her eyes are still closed but she can imagine Hanna staring at her with worry.

“I haven’t talked to her yet,” Emily mumbles, “After everything’s that happened…I guess I don’t have the guts to.” She pauses, an image forming in her head—of Ali waiting for her to come out of that godforsaken place, of Ali clutching her as if she was afraid that she would disappear, of Ali looking at her soft-eyed and hesitant smiles. Like she _forgives_ Emily. Like she _cares_ for Emily. Almost as if Emily hadn’t sent her to jail in the first place.

“She doesn’t hate us,” Hanna says bluntly, “which is an achievement, if you think about it.”

“I’m glad A is finally locked up in jail for the rest of his life,” Emily whispers, “At least I have one less thing to worry about.”

“Yeah, like college and mental stability and Alison DiLaurentis.”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get over her,” Emily confesses in the shortest spans of her breathing. Hanna stills above her and Emily squeezes her eyes so tightly that stars erupt. Her chest feels like its breaking and her brain feels very sober right now. She’s told many lies—for her friends, for her parents, for herself, for _Ali_ —but this is disgustingly the truth and she feels so ashamed of how she feels; partly relieved, partly terrified.

“Em,” Hanna quietly whispers.

Emily chooses to keep her eyes closed, because she doesn’t think she can stand to see the disapproval in Hanna’s eyes. She clutches at the mattress and evens her breath. “It’s true,” she continues, “Ever since she went missing, I just kept thinking that she’d come back, that it was all a joke, that she’d walk up to school one day wearing her signature smile and then say ‘ _Did you miss me_?’ And I’d say, ‘ _Of course, I could barely live without you_ ’ and then she’d laugh and tell me to get over myself. Then they found her body, we had the funeral and the memorial and everybody was saying their condolences and I—I still had hope.” Her voice cracks and tears spill from her eyes. “I was still praying that she’d come back. Even when I was with Maya. Samara. Paige. I just kept praying. And then she _did_ come back and in the process, flipped my whole world again. I thought I was over her. I was wrong.”

It’s quiet for a while. Hanna is still stroking her hair. “She has a flair for that kind of thing,” she murmurs.

“I know.” Emily sighs, grateful that the blonde has chosen not to spit her words back at her.

“Look, I’m not an expert or anything but—” Hanna is interrupted by her cellphone ringing and Emily finally opens her eyes to turn and watch as Hanna mutters something about Caleb before standing up and going out into the hall.

Emily pushes herself into a sitting position and groans when she accidentally slams her head against the wall. She clumsily pulls her phone out of her back pocket, feeling a surge of bravery when she spots Alison’s name in her contacts. It’s stupid, she’s drunk and barely holding it together but she doesn’t think she can keep this to herself any longer. They kissed each other six months ago and she’s still fucking thinking about it.

It goes straight to voicemail and Emily knows that this is a really bad idea, but six months is a long time and they’ve known each other for _years_ now. Emily has had many near death experiences and she thinks that one phone call might be adding to the list. She doesn’t care. She’s drunk and she doesn’t fucking care.

“Hi, Ali,” she starts, feeling her courage dwindle. She squeezes her eyes shut and lets out a deep breath. “Hanna’s going to kill me when she finds out that I called you but I’ve had a couple of drinks. More than a couple actually. A whole bottle, I think? Guess I’m a lightweight. Anyway, I’ve really wanted to talk to you for the past few days—like _really_ talk to you but I always get cold feet. I’m such a coward, I’m so sorry.”

She stops suddenly, when she feels a lurch in her chest. She feels like she’s fifteen all over again, apologizing for letting her eyes stray, for stealing kisses when she knows that she’s pushing it, for _loving_ Alison. She lets out another sigh as she runs her fingers through her hair. “I just want to thank you, though. For everything. For forgiving me. For… _caring_. I’m sorry that I can’t say it to your face and I’m sorry that I love you—” Her time ends and Emily drops her phone, feeling a lot worse than she did a few seconds ago.

She presses her palms against her eyes and grits her teeth, feeling tears prickle the back of her eyeballs.

Hanna comes back and frowns when she sees Alison’s name on the screen of Emily’s phone. She doesn’t say anything, just scoots closer to the other girl, sighing when Emily squeezes her hand.

They fall asleep listening to each other breathe.

//

Emily sees Ali the next day at The Brew, talking to Spencer and Aria at their usual places and looking painfully beautiful, all blonde curls, clear blue eyes and sharp smiles. Emily steps dead in her tracks because a. it’s too soon to have this conversation, especially after what she did last night (she doesn’t entirely remember what she said but she knows that it’s bad) b. she has a hangover and c. she has no fucking idea what to say anymore.

Spencer spots her first, trying to wave her over but Emily pulls her beanie down and shoves her sunglasses against her eyes before quickly grabbing her to-go coffee, feeling Ali’s gaze burning holes on her back even as she rounds the corner.

//

“You’re fucked,” Hanna says when Emily tells her of the run-in.

Emily couldn’t agree more.

 

**ii.**

Eventually, they talk. Alison corners Emily when the brunette is up and jogging early in the morning. She makes the mistake of passing by Spencer’s place, hoping to talk to her friend about college applications and whatnot but instead of seeing Spencer, she sees Alison. Alison, sitting on the porch while rubbing the top of Pepe’s head. Alison, wearing a white sweater and colorful sweatpants. Alison, quickly catching sight of her and already coming down the front steps.

“Where’s Spencer?” It’s the first thing out of Emily’s mouth and she cringes when Alison raises her eyebrows.

“Having breakfast with Toby at The Grille,” Ali answers.

“Oh.” Emily suddenly feels underdressed. She’s wearing a black tank top and shorts that barely skim her knees. Making a mental note to start wearing jogging pants, she kneels in front of Ali and grins when Pepe barks and steps forward, exhaling a laugh when the dog whimpers under her touch, almost as if he’s missed her.

She knows that Alison is watching her but Emily can’t bear to look up. The call she made happened a week ago and besides fleeting glances of each other whenever she’s out in town and at the Brew or at the Grille, Emily has barely seen the blonde around. She knew that avoiding the other girl would have to come to an end but it’s seven days later and she still has no idea what to say.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I was doing here?” Alison asks when Emily doesn’t stand.

“You and Spencer are neighbors,” Emily mumbles, letting her hands fall from Pepe’s mane, “It’s kind of normal, I think?”

“I was waiting for you,” Ali states.

Emily looks up. Alison has her arms crossed, blue eyes clear and focused on her. She looks partly annoyed, partly worried, partly furious and Emily knows that she has every right to be. That phone call rocked back whatever development they’ve had and she knows how _stupid_ of a decision it was. Emily’s fucked up a lot of things these past few weeks and she doesn’t know if she can bear to see the consequences.

“You were waiting for me?” Emily asks, clearly confused. “How’d you know that I’d head over here?”

“I didn’t,” Alison admits, looking away, “but I figured that since you were avoiding me, you might not be avoiding the others. So uh—I spent the last week hanging here instead of my house. My dad still doesn’t let me out of his sights but since Spencer and I are neighbors—well, you get it.”

Emily doesn’t know what to think about this. The only thing that’s being processed in her head right now is the phrase _she waited for me she waited for me she waited for me_ playing on a loop like a broken record. She forces her legs to stand, still unable to look at the blonde s sheo chooses to look down at her feet like they’re the most interesting things in the world.

“Em, can we talk?” Ali asks, voice desperate and pleading.

“I still have a run to finish—”

“Five minutes, that’s it.”

“Ali—”

“You’ve been avoiding me for a week!” Alison’s voice rises and Emily flinches, memories of fifteen year old Alison DiLaurentis crowing at her discomfort and practically seething with anger; _it’s just practice, Emily_ , she snaps bitingly and Emily’s face falls on its own record. Alison must see it because regret quickly flashes across her features. “Emily, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to make you upset—”

“It’s fine.” Emily’s jaw tightens. She gestures for her to continue. “You were saying?”

Ali’s shoulders deflate and she looks as if all the fight has gone out of her. Emily continues to stare at her feet, kicking off leaves and shoving her hands into her pockets. It takes a short while but finally, Alison says, “About your phone call—I listened to it, by the way—and I know that you were drunk and everything but I just want to know one thing.” Her voice makes it clear that the next words are going to be important so Emily forces herself to look up, heart loudly thundering inside her chest. Alison meets her gaze, blue eyes sharp and careful, and if Emily has to be honest, completely sad.

“What?” Emily asks, giving Alison plenty of time to think about it.

“Did you mean it?”

Emily doesn’t answer. Alison takes a step closer, still watching her. Pepe sits down, staring at his owner with his tongue lolling out.

“Did you mean it when you said you wanted to talk to me for weeks now?” Alison asks. “Did you mean it when you thanked me for everything? Did you mean it?” She doesn’t ask about the ‘I love you’ part but Emily hears it anyway.

“ _Yes_ ,” Emily answers, voice firm. Her mouth moves on its own record. “I meant everything.”

Ali stares at her for a few seconds longer than necessary and Emily’s about to turn around and walk away but then Alison surges forward, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back. The brunette stumbles slightly and she barely has enough time to say “Ali—” before the blonde is pressing her lips against hers.

Emily opens her mouth immediately, her hands curling around Alison’s waist, tugging her close, pulling her in. She’s breathing heavily now, the vanilla scent of the blonde quietly messing with her thoughts. Ali deepens the soft kiss, reaching out and wrapping her arms around Emily’s neck, her fingers playing with Emily’s scalp. This feels strongly like the kiss they shared in the library all those years ago, soft and chaste, exploring and patient, young and painfully slow. Emily’s heart feels like a steady thrum inside her chest as Alison presses her forehead against hers, keeping their mouths locked together.

“I love you,” Emily whispers, barely letting her lips move when she says the words. Alison pauses but Emily shakes her head and pulls away. She doesn’t look at her, in fear that what she might find in Alison’s eyes would mirror the same repulsion two years ago, back in that godforsaken locker room.

“Emily,” Alison quietly says.

“I have to go,” Emily insists, glancing at Pepe and smiling at the animal. She licks her lips and then quickly turns away, trying hard to pretend that her heart isn’t thundering inside her chest.

//

Aria doesn’t say anything when Emily pops over unannounced, bearing takeout and a rented movie. They watch it together, surrounded by darkness and the lingering comfort that they are actually alone for once. Their phones don’t light up with A messages but Emily’s vibrate with an incoming call from Alison.

Aria doesn’t say anything as well, when Emily declines it. Instead, she reaches over and squeezes Emily’s hand, a quiet reassurance that she’s always there if she needs to talk.

//

“Go to dinner with me,” Emily says when she goes over to Spencer’s the next day, only to find Ali waiting on the porch.

Ali accepts the offer with a small smile.

**iii.**

Emily actually makes _reservations_ at this fine dining restaurant near Philly and spends nearly four hours trying to pick out the perfect outfit. She’s going to pick up Ali at 7 but it’s 3 in the afternoon and she’s already called Hanna and Aria to help her out in trying to look presentable. Her room is a mess, filled with dresses that are either too modest or too slutty. Not to mention the fact that somehow, her heels have completely disappeared.

There’s a knock on the door thirty minutes after the clock strikes 3 and Emily impatiently flings it open, revealing Hanna and Aria on the other side. Hanna raises her eyebrows when she steps inside and Aria lowly whistles under her breath.

“Looks like someone has first date jitters,” Aria says, putting her bag on top of the bed, where most of the dresses are placed. She looks them over with a frown on her face, making Emily’s hopes plummet.

“No kidding,” Hanna remarks, throwing a look over at Emily, “Come on, Em, it’s just Alison. It’s not like she’ll bite your head off the way she used to.”

Emily glares at her. “Thanks for reminding me,” she mutters. She picks up a red dress that she hasn’t touched in over four months and mockingly looks at her two best friends. “Now, are you going to help me get ready or not?”

//

It nearly takes forever but Hanna and Aria finally convince her to wear a blue cocktail dress with a plunging neckline, insisting that Alison needs to know what she’s been missing for the past two years. Emily spends ten minutes staring at her reflection in the mirror, trying to find any fault that Alison might dislike. It’s hard to shake off bad habits, obviously, and she can’t help but feel a twinge of panic at what’s she’s gotten herself into.

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” she says out loud, accepting the three-inched heels Hanna hands her.

“Isn’t this what you want?” Aria asks, smiling at her with fondness in her eyes. She’s sitting on top of the bed with her phone in her hand, taking pictures of this rare moment.

“Yeah, and it’s nice to actually feel like normal teenagers for once,” Hanna comments, reaching forward and running her fingers through Emily’s hair.

“I know,” Emily says. She looks at Aria as she continues, “I dreamt of this moment years ago and now that it’s actually happening, I’m just waiting for someone to swoop in and take it away from me.”

“Hey.” Aria slides off the bed and gently squeezes her shoulder. “That part is over, remember?”

Emily shakes her head. “I know,” she repeats.

“Don’t tell me you don’t flinch every time you receive a text,” Hanna bluntly says.

“Please, I still shut my windows and sleep with the door wide open so that my parents can easily see how I’m _not_ sleeping,” Aria mumbles under her breath and when Emily and Hanna just stare at her openly, she raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “What? Too early for sarcasm?”

“No kidding, Sherlock,” Emily says.

“Maybe we should have a sleepover again,” Hanna suggests, “for like a week or maybe. Just to feel _normal_.”

“Aren’t we a little too old for sleepovers?” Aria asks.

Hanna says, “No” the same time Emily says “Yes” and the blonde mimes a kick to Emily’s knee but the brunette wisely moves away. Aria snorts at them, fondness written all over her features and Emily’s heart swells when she realizes just how _badly_ she misses moments like this. Then the moment is interrupted when she hears her phone chiming on the desk.

“That must be Ali,” Emily mumbles, reaching out and swiping the screen open. Sure enough, there’s a message there and Emily takes note of the fact that she still has an hour left. Hopefully, Ali must be feeling nervous.

 **Alison** (6:03 PM):are we still on for tonight?

 **Emily** (6:03 PM): you bet.

“Where’s Spencer, by the way?” Hanna asks.

“I asked her to come over but she already had ‘prior engagements’ which probably means that she has college applications to go over again,” Emily answers, turning towards her two best friends, who share a look.

“ _O_ -kay,” Aria says, grinning widely at Emily. “You look _gorgeous_. Ali won’t know what hit her.”

“Yeah, like the time she got hit by a rock,” Hanna jokes.

Emily and Aria both glare at her. Hanna rolls her eyes and shrugs, muttering about how she can’t even make any jokes without offending anyone anymore. Emily’s mouth quirks into a small smile before grabbing her purse from her vanity table and then quickly heading over to the door.

“I still have one last thing to do,” she says, answering Hanna and Aria’s questioning gazes.

“Buy a condom?” Hanna asks.

“Seriously, Hanna?” Aria replies, raising her eyebrows. She waves Emily out the door. “Go on, we’ll just stay here for a couple of minutes.”

Emily laughs when she spots Aria pretending to hit Hanna over the head and she leaves the house with her heart entirely too big for her chest.

//

Emily has every right to be nervous, really. She’s on her first date with the girl she loves more than anyone else, even after all they’ve been through. She’s spent countless years dreaming of this moment and now that it’s finally happening, she can’t help but pinch herself on the arm. What if something goes wrong? What if Alison realizes that this isn’t what she wants? What if it’s that locker room all over again?

She forces these thoughts out of her head when she drives over to pick Ali up. She’s just a few minutes shy of being way too early and she checks her reflection in the rearview mirror before exiting the car, bringing her bouquet of flowers. Ali’s dad is out for the weekend, as he always is, so Emily doesn’t have to worry about awkward run-ins. Her heart is loudly beating inside her chest and she has to look over her shoulder once or twice to make sure she isn’t being followed. Whenever in the face of something important, Emily always takes note to keep an eye for danger. It’s a habit that she feels won’t be going away anytime soon.

After knocking on the door and waiting for the precious minutes to tick by, Emily takes a deep breath and holds the flowers behind her back. She can hear footsteps inside and wonders, not for the first time that night, if Alison is as nervous as she is.

The door swings open and Emily manages to say, “Hi” right before her breath catches in her throat and she can’t stutter any more words.

Because Ali is standing in front of her, wearing a stunning red velvet dress that skims the top of her knees. It wraps around her figure nicely and even shows a bit of cleavage. But it’s not the outfit that catches Emily’s attention—it’s the girl itself, because Alison’s hair has been curled to perfection (even though it’s always curled to perfection) and she’s wearing light make-up with pink lip gloss. The look on the blonde’s face must undoubtedly mirror her own because they spend the next several seconds drinking each other in, mindless of the fact that they have a reservation to catch up on.

“Is that Emily?” a voice behind Alison asks and Emily is snapped out of her reverie when she spots Spencer hovering in the doorway.

“Spencer?” Emily asks, confused.

Spencer sheepishly grins. “Hi,” she says.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, you’re not the only one who has first date jitters,” Spencer says, mirroring Aria’s earlier statement. She leans back on the doorway and nods over to Ali. “Since you hauled Hanna and Aria to be your love gurus, it fell upon me to assist our dear helpless friend over here.”

Alison says, “I’m not helpless” the same time Emily mumbles, “Friend?” and Spencer rolls her eyes before she lightly shoves Alison over the threshold, muttering something about how she’ll close up the house. Then the door slams shut and Emily is left alone with Ali again.

“You look beautiful,” she says immediately, because it’s the truth. She produces the flowers from behind her back and laughs when Alison gushes at the sight of them. The blonde inhales them with the utmost care and a star struck, dreamy look flashes across her face when she glances back at Emily.

“You’re such a sap,” she says.

“You like it.”

“Very.”

They get off the porch in silence, with Alison idly admiring the bouquet. Then she says, almost as an afterthought, “You don’t look so bad yourself, by the way.”

“Hey, I spent four hours picking the right dress,” Emily points out, reaching down and intertwining their hands together. Alison’s eyes light up as her grin widens.

“I spent six,” Alison shyly admits.

“Seriously?”

With another shy nod, Alison meets Emily’s gaze. “First date jitters, I guess,” the blonde mutters. “Spencer was starting to get frustrated with me.”

Resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss her, Emily chastises herself. She’s a gentlewoman, and there is no way in hell she’s going to break first date rules. She has standards and class, after all. They climb into the car and Emily watches as Alison carefully and lovingly places the bouquet in the backseat. Once they’re all settled in and ready to go, she starts the engine and says, “So, you and Spencer, huh?”

“Is it so hard to believe that we can actually get along?” Ali asks, smirking lazily.

“I didn’t say that,” Emily points out, glancing over at her date, “but yeah, it’s hard to believe.”

Alison reaches over to clasp her hand and Emily’s heart jumpstarts. “Believe it then,” the blonde murmurs.

//

“You okay there, Em?”

“I—uhm.” Emily furrows her eyebrows at the pieces of cutlery she’s faced with, wondering which knife to use and which spoon to grab a hold of. Across her, Alison is smiling gently as she cuts a piece of her lamb chop and chews it. Emily knows that she probably looks like a fool, not knowing the proper etiquette of fine dining and she curses herself for not Googling this beforehand.

“You know, you can use whatever you want,” Ali says, waving her knife around, “It’s just me.”

“I’m trying to make an impression here,” Emily mumbles but she’s hungry so she picks up the shortest spoon and digs into the risotto she’s ordered. The food melts in her mouth and she nearly moans. Alison’s eyes twinkles as she laughs.

“You’ve already made a good impression, Em,” Ali remarks, the fond look in her eyes never ceasing. “Enough to last a lifetime actually.”

Emily clears her throat when her heart skips a beat. Alison holds her gaze for several long seconds before she looks back down at her food again. Everything about the restaurant is incredibly really. It’s the picture of a perfect fine dining cuisine and Emily feels like a celebrity amongst the well-dressed customers. However, she _does_ feel uncomfortable, having to sit so straight like there’s a broom shoved up her ass.

Alison, though. She looks as if she _belongs_ here, like she’s a queen in the making and Emily feels close to inadequate as she tries to figure out which cutlery to use.

“This place is so fancy,” Alison comments, noticing that Emily hasn’t spoken.

“Spencer actually suggested this place,” Emily admits, looking around. “Told me that her family used to eat her all the time whenever they visited Philly.”

“I can understand why,” Ali says, smirking, “The Hastings never settle for less.”

Emily nods in agreement and they continue to eat in silence. She can’t help but feel that Alison feels uncomfortable too and she wonders if she’s having second thoughts about their _relationship._ A twinge of panic buries itself into her chest and she nearly slaps her wine glass of the table. She catches it at the last second, but not before spilling a bit of red wine on the cloth.

“You okay there?” Ali is quick to tense up and Emily quietly reassures her,

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Alison, it’s okay.”

Ali obviously doesn’t believe her and Emily sighs when the waiter comes over to wipe off the mess. They’re quietly stiff and tense for about a few minutes until Emily lets out another sigh and reaches across the table to hold Ali’s hand. Alison’s shoulders relax almost instinctively and Emily gives her a soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” the brunette says, “I guess I’m just so not used to _fine dining_.”

“It’s okay,” Alison tells her, blue eyes fierce and genuine, “I don’t care. You can pick your lamb chop up and shove it down your throat and I’d still want to be with you.”

Emily’s mouth goes dry. “Ali…” she says.

“Don’t make me take it back,” the blonde whispers, “Don’t, because it’s the truth. I know that it’s not worth much, coming from someone like me but please believe me.”

“It’s worth everything,” Emily quietly says and she squeezes Alison’s fingers. “And really, thank you. I was just thinking that you might be uncomfortable and all, because we’re in someplace that nobody knows who we are and what we’ve been through and it feels _weird_ and _foreign_ but I just want you to know that I want us to have a good time, especially since I love you and I—” She stops immediately, realizing what she’s said and Alison’s grip tightens on her hand. She quickly averts her gaze from the blonde’s curious eyes. “—and I want us to have a good time, that’s it.”

“Emily,” Ali says her name with a hushed reverence and Emily squeezes her hand once more before pulling away.

They finish their food and when they stand up to leave, Emily pays for the check and waves off Alison’s protests, insisting that it’s her treat. Then they’re walking back to the car, Emily’s arm around Ali’s shoulder and they’re both looking up at the stars as they take each step. Emily can see her breath forming in the air as she snuggles closer to her date.

“Rough start?” she asks the blonde.

“It was nice,” Ali murmurs, smiling up at her.

“Good.”

Alison wraps her arm around Emily’s waist. “Does that mean it’s my turn to ask you out now?”

Emily laughs, nose bumping clumsily against Ali’s as she leans in for a well-deserved kiss. “Yes,” she says, right before the lips touch and the world melts away.

 

**iv.**

Surprisingly enough, the plan for the sleepover falls through. It’s Hanna who insists upon it, dragging the topic whenever the five of them are together, pleading and demanding and generally being a nuisance, refusing to step down until she gets what she wants. Alison thinks that it’s a great idea but she and Emily are both cautious in taking a step towards it. They’re almost going to college, and it _does_ seem nice to have a night for all of them again, after the whole A fiasco.

It’s obviously Spencer who disagrees until the very last minute, when all four girls have come to an agreement. When she realizes that she has no choice, she sighs and gives a final nod. Both Hanna and Aria squeal before reaching over to hug her. _They’re actually going to have a sleepover_. At Hanna’s place, since her mom and Ted are going to some weekend getaway. Emily looks over at Alison when the verdict has been decided and she can see the uneasiness in the blonde’s eyes.

Truth be told, the thought scares Emily more than she likes to admit. Because the five of them all back together again—it _terrifies_ her. What if something goes wrong? What if old secrets resurface, past resentments bubble to the top, breaking points reached? And the fact that there is still some ice between some of her friends is what keeps her up at night. Hanna has a big mouth, Aria is still wary, Spencer has some stuff she needs answers to and Alison—well, that’s the whole point, really. Because Emily doesn’t know what Alison might do or say.

The weekend rolls around and Emily drives over to the DiLaurentis house to pick up her ( _girl_?)friend. Ali is already waiting by the porch with Pepe by her feet, the dog perking up immediately when he sees Emily’s car pulling up the driveway.

“Did you miss me?” Emily asks, getting out of the car and jogging over to Alison. She bends down to let Pepe lick her face.

“Are you talking to the dog or me?” Ali retorts with another question, grabbing her bag and getting to her feet. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a low ponytail and Emily’s heart quickens at the sight of her looking so casually beautiful.

“Depends on which one is cuter,” Emily cheekily says.

Alison pretends to slap her but Emily wisely moves away. She craves moments like these, when the blonde lets her guard down and goes back to the same playful teenager Emily knew as a child, the same one she so desperately fell in love with. Of course there are times where Alison caves in on herself, brings her walls up so high that Emily can scarcely see the top and snaps at anyone who gets too close. But Emily can see her _trying_ and it’s better than nothing.

Alison touches her shoulder then. “What are you thinking about?” she asks.

Emily smiles. “You,” she answers and Ali raises an eyebrow. “I’m always thinking about you.”

There’s silence and Alison’s walking towards her with a determined look on her face, grabbing her wrist and pulling her up to her feet. Emily opens her mouth to say something but then Ali’s kissing her, wrapping her arms around her neck, her lips soft and chaste. They stay intertwined like that for several long seconds until Ali pulls away.

“What was that for?” Emily asks, out of breath.

Ali’s gaze remains soft as she looks up at the brunette. “That was for you,” she says, “One of the bravest people I have ever met.”

Emily returns the smile and she almost _says_ it. The three words that have been spilling from her mouth since day one but Alison’s already turning away, saying a hushed goodbye to Pepe. Then she’s grabbing Emily’s hand and pulling her from the porch, towards the car.

Emily doesn’t mind. She has plenty of time to say it. Just not now.

//

“Where the hell have you guys been?” Hanna demands the moment she flings the door open.

“Well, good evening to you too,” Ali sarcastically drawls, tilting her head to the side and genuinely smiling at the girl in front of her. Emily cheekily grins. “Sorry, it was Emily’s fault. She thought the backseat of a car was the appropriate place to have a sudden heated make-out session—”

Hanna makes the same face she always makes whenever she finds something particularly offending or disgusting. Both Emily and Alison laugh at the sight of it and a moment later, they’re shuffling towards the kitchen, where Aria and Spencer have already started making dinner. The two girls look up when Hanna grabs a chocolate bar from the table and starts babbling.

“I swear to God I should’ve invited Caleb along if these two—” Hanna jerkily points her finger at Emily and Alison “—suddenly start doing God-knows-what on _my_ bed.”

“Maybe I should’ve invited my bed buddy as well,” Aria murmurs.

Spencer laughs. “I’ve got Toby on speed dial, if you want.”

Alison slides on the chair next to Hanna and grabs a chocolate bar as well. Emily hovers behind her, staring at the mess on the table with a furrow between her eyebrows. Aria and Spencer seem to know what they’re doing, because they move with an easy and practiced pace.

“What the hell are you guys making?” she asks.

There are all sorts of food in front of her—pasta, mac and cheese, chicken nuggets, chocolate bars and cookies scattered all around. There are some that Emily doesn’t know the name to but she’s pretty sure that she’s seen this kind of stuff in Ezra’s kitchen. She briefly wonders if she’s going to end up puking her dinner at the end of night but decides to give her friends the benefit of the doubt.

“A buffet, hopefully,” Aria answers, grabbing a few of the chocolate bars and chopping them up into smaller pieces.

Spencer catches the look on Emily’s face and defensively says, “Hey! Don’t judge unless you’ve taken a bite.”

“Do you even know how to cook?” Emily asks.

“I don’t remember judging _your_ empanadas,” Spencer kindly points out.

Alison turns to her the same time Emily’s mouth drops open in mock offense. Both Aria and Hanna laugh but Alison is looking at her ( _girl_?)friend with a interested look on her face. Emily is suddenly hit with the memory of Alison finding out that she had slept with Ben (even though she never did.) Emily can still hear her actually, surprised and slightly mocking. _Shy in the streets, sexy in the sheets_.

“You can cook?” the blonde asks.

“I can follow instructions on the back of a box,” Emily admits.

“At least _I_ can make pancakes,” Spencer cheekily grins.

“I think Aria’s the only one who can cook, actually,” Hanna points out.

Aria grins triumphantly while Alison coolly raises her eyebrow at Hanna, who defiantly meets her gaze.

“And have you forgotten about me?” Alison sweetly asks.

“You cook?” Hanna doubtfully says.

“Is that such a surprise?”

Emily places her hands on Alison’s shoulder, smiling. “It’s true,” she confirms, “She actually made me lasagna once and it was edible.” She laughs when Alison pinches her thigh, relentlessly continuing anyways, “I half expected her to burn down her kitchen in the process but what she got were just a bunch of small burns on her fingers.”

Aria slides a batter towards Ali, smirking. “Well then,” she says, “Since Emily _insists_ , and we need a few more half-burned hands, then I guess you’re making the pancakes.”

Emily expects Alison to refuse but is pleasantly pleased when the blonde stands up from her chair and readily accepts the pancake batter.

“Get ready for your socks to be knocked off,” she confidently declares.

Emily didn’t think it was possible but she falls in love with Alison DiLaurentis a little bit more right there.

//

The pancakes are more than edible. They’re really fucking _good_.

Emily spends the majority of the night chomping down Ali’s pancakes, as what any good girlfriend would do. Don’t get her wrong, Spencer’s mac and cheese is wonderful and Aria’s fried chicken nuggets are amazing but Alison’s pancakes top the two dishes. Maybe she’s being biased, or she’s blinded with love—Emily doesn’t care. The chocolate chip pancakes are fucking delicious. Hanna is too busy chewing on everything else to make a final verdict however, which frustrates Spencer, because she wants to know who made the better meal.

“They’re both good,” Aria says, taking a bite off Spencer’s mac and cheese. “It’s a tie.”

“There’s no such thing as a tie,” Spencer stiffly says, “That’s like first place loser.”

“Relax, Spence,” Ali cuts in, grinning, “I think your mac and cheese is better than my pancakes.”

Emily is too busy eating to disagree.

After dinner, they head upstairs to Hanna’s newly decorated room. There’s more space now, since the blonde nearly destroyed everything after what happened at the dollhouse. They don’t talk about it, though and Emily grabs her blankets from the bag and drapes it over the extra mattress Hanna brought in. Alison quickly moves to the laptop and skims through the folders, humming all the while.

“Uh, ever heard of privacy?” Hanna asks, sounding offended.

“I’m just looking for some good horror movies,” Ali says and she sounds every bit of the old Alison, biting and playful—the kind of friend who made you watch scary movies in order to make you squeal and flail. Emily’s hands clench into fists and she feels her heart racing, expecting the other girls to say something that would revert their development back a few steps.

They don’t. Instead, Aria rolls her eyes and drops on Hanna’s bed. “The first one to scream has to wake up early tomorrow morning and run around the block five times,” she says.

“That’s horrendous,” Hanna says.

“That’s smart,” Spencer mumbles.

“That’s easy,” Emily exclaims.

“That’s a deal,” Alison states and the others agree.

//

Predictably enough, both Aria and Hanna lose the bet. It’s a pretty hilarious experience, since it was barely five minutes into the movie before Hanna screamed her head off, thinking that a hand had grabbed her ankle, which led to Aria screaming as well. Spencer erupts into a fitful of giggles, while Alison shrieks in glee. Emily’s just shaking her head and quietly laughing under her breath.

Hanna remains grumpy all throughout the remainder of the movie and Aria is glaring at the laptop screen. Spencer just laughs at the worst times while Alison slides her hand in Emily’s, smiling softly. There have been many things that have gone wrong in Emily’s life but she’s pretty sure that her friends aren’t one of them.

The movie ends and everybody’s full and tired. Aria crawls in next to Spencer on the spare mattress, throwing a blanket over their bodies and immediately collapsing. Aria and Spencer always sleep well together, because Aria doesn’t mind any tossing and turning, which is what Spencer does whenever she can’t sleep. Hanna has control over her own bed, obviously, and grabs a few teddy bears from the closet in order to cuddle with. Alison crawls over to where Emily is lying and places her blonde head on the other girl’s shoulder.

“What are you thinking about?” Alison quietly asks, tracing patterns against Emily’s bare stomach.

Emily runs her fingers through her ( _girl_?)friend’s hair and smiles. “I’m just thinking about how happy I am,” she whispers, so that the others won’t hear.

She can feel Alison’s smile against her skin. “And why are you happy?”

“Because I’m with the people I love most in the world.”

“So, you love me more than you love Hanna?”

“ _I heard that_ ,” Hanna grumbles from her bed. Both Aria and Spencer laugh.

Emily looks down at Alison, pauses when she sees the uncertainty in the blonde’s eyes. She knows how hard it is for Ali to open up, how difficult it must be to adjust having to wear her heart on her sleeve. With the whole A fiasco terminated, things have gotten easier. But Emily has nightmares and Alison still can’t bear to look at her father in the eye. There are no longer people after them, but the memories aren’t easy to bear.

She doesn’t answer the question, instead leans down and presses a soft kiss against the other girl’s forehead. The blonde’s eyes flutter shut and her breathing eases. Hanna turns off the lights by loudly clapping her hands and a moment later, they’re surrounded by the darkness. Ali settles in next to her, intertwining their fingers together and Emily uses her free hand to soothe the Ali’s scalp. She can hear her breathing, can feel her heart beating steadily against her chest; can feel how _alive_ and _beautiful_ she is underneath her fingertips. She licks her lips as the time quietly passes by, the clock ticking away the minutes.

Hanna has started snoring and Spencer’s stopped moving around. Aria is as silent as ever and it’s too dark to see the blue in Alison’s eyes but Emily’s pretty sure that they’re all asleep.

She leans in close, brushing another soft kiss against Ali’s forehead and whispers, with her heart written all over the expanse of her words, “I love you more than I’ve loved anybody else.” The quiet confession does not go unnoticed. Alison stirs next to her and Emily quickly shutters her eyes close, praying to God that the other girl can’t hear the loud thundering inside her ribcage.

 

**v.**

Emily never knew that Alison could dance. Of all the facts about the girl she’s in love with, she never would’ve thought to miss this crucial piece of information. She finds out in the most comical way as well, when Ali’s dad is out of town for the whole week and she’s been invited to stay over. It’s amazing too, since they’ve been alternating from making out on the couch, watching movies, making a mess in the kitchen, taking Pepe out for walks and more making out in the bedroom. It seems like something out of a dream fifteen-year-old Emily Fields wanted more than anything else. And now eighteen-year-old Emily Fields wants it too.

She’s in her fourth night of stay, when she wakes up in the middle of the night only to find out that the other half of the bed is empty. She raises her head, blinking in confusion. Maybe it’s what past experiences has taught her, or maybe she just doesn’t want to go back to bed alone but she slips out of the bedroom and pads downstairs to the kitchen, where she can see a light shining through.

“Ali?” she calls out.

She can see shadows moving across the floorboards and the worst case scenario pops up to mind. A rational part of her brain tells her that she has nothing to worry about, that the threat of A is long past gone but it’s better to be safe than sorry, so she has grabs one of Jason’s old hockey sticks from one of the rooms and carefully walks over to the kitchen.

The shadows are still moving across the floor and Emily squeezes her eye shut before peeking in. The scene in front of her makes her stumble and the hockey stick falls from her hands and nearly crashes into a vase.

Because Ali—the infamous Alison DiLaurentis; the girl who disappeared for two years with questions raising every corner and came back with even more questions popping up and around, the girl who could make or ruin a person with her sickly sweet smile and dangerous eyes, the girl Emily loved more than anybody else in the world—is dancing in the middle of the kitchen with her earphones plugged in. She isn’t singing, exactly, but she’s humming to a song under her breath and her hips are moving with the beat and she has her eyes closed, blissfully unaware of the world around her.

Emily leans against the doorway of the kitchen, wide-eyed and impressed. She has her arms crossed and for a few minutes, she is allowed the pleasure of watching her (girl?)friend dancing like nobody is watching.

(Except for Emily—she’s _always_ watching.)

When Alison finally notices her, she nearly crashes into the kitchen counter. Emily quickly moves forward and wraps her arms around the blonde, laughing quietly when the look of shock doesn’t pass through.

“You never told me you could dance,” Emily says.

“It never came up,” Alison admits. She takes off her earphones, smiling shyly.

“You’re good.”

A flush appears on Ali’s cheeks and Emily grins, plugging one of the earphones in. Her grin widens when she realizes that Ali’s been listening to Flashlight by Jessie J. Then, since it’s the most practical thing to do at 3 in the morning with nobody else in the house, she stretches out a hand and smiles when Alison takes it. Then she unplugs the ear buds from the phone, filling the kitchen with sweet music.

“Care to dance?” she asks.

Alison’s eyes are bright as she nods and Emily slips an arm around her waist and tugs her close. With the lyrics flowing through the air, they both sway to the music and Emily spins her girlfriend around, laughing when Ali gracefully twists. (She’s never been sure if she’s allowed to use the term _girlfriend_ before but after hearing Alison say it once to their friends, she’s getting comfortable.) Emily tugs at her again and Ali’s back is turned to her front so Emily takes the opportunity to wrap her arms around her middle. Alison intertwines their fingers together and they stay folded against each other for several long seconds, swaying as the music continues on.

Emily can smell the girl’s vanilla perfume and it makes her dizzy.

“So, why are you dancing in the middle of the night with no company?” Emily asks.

“I wanted a snack,” Alison confesses, twisting around so that they’re facing each other. She grins, leaning forward and nudging their noses together. “But then you woke up and interrupted me.”

“I wasn’t aware that wanting a snack included a dance,” Emily smartly responds.

“Shut up,” Ali sweetly warns and Emily’s smile widens.

“Hey, hey, you’re beautiful,” she whispers and it suddenly feels like there’s a sock in her throat because she has to struggle to get the words out, “You’re beautiful and amazing and I’m the luckiest person in the world to have you in my arms right now.”

Alison’s smile doesn’t waver. Her eyes have lit up like fireworks and for a moment, Emily is struck stunned by her beauty to come up with more words. She doesn’t have to, because Ali pulls her close and buries her face against Emily’s shoulder.

“You’re wrong,” the blonde mumbles, “ _I’m_ the luckiest person in the world.”

“You’re such a sap,” Emily mutters, rubbing Ali’s back soothingly.

“Whatever.”

“You need to go to dance school, though.”

“You’re the better dancer.”

“Yeah, but you’re prettier.”

Alison pulls back and makes a face. Emily laughs at the sight of it. The song has changed, turning to Uptown Funk and Emily disentangles their limbs and sways her hips. Alison giggles before moving along to the beat as well, shaking her body and moving her feet. It’s hilarious and they keep bumping elbows with each other, which might lead to bruises the next day, but Ali’s smile is just so wide and Emily’s heart might actually just burst if they continue like this.

“God, I love you,” she suddenly blurts out into the open and when Alison slows down, she’s quick to add, “when we do this.” Her cheeks are aflame and she wants to scold herself. How many times has she said _I love you_ at the wrong time? She definitely doesn’t want to scare Alison away and saying those words prematurely might actually make her run tail. So she settles for ducking her head and trying to pretend that Alison isn’t burning holes against her skin.

 

**vi.**

Emily’s never been good with words. She says what pops up to her mind and rarely regrets anything that comes to pass. She’s not like Hanna, who picks out a random word from the dictionary and completely misuses it, or Aria who has a way with words that can make even the toughest person cry, or even Spencer whose words are so difficult and intelligent that Emily feels kind of stupid just standing next to her.

So, when Alison’s out of town for the weekend and Emily misses her with an ache that seems out of this world, she picks up a piece of paper from her stationary and hunches over her study table. She’s never been fully able to express her emotions to Ali, only fleeting moments of it where she’s managed to stutter out her feelings or when actions speak louder than words. But Alison has never known the extent of her emotions and Emily intends for her to know, even if it is in the most mundane of ways.

It’s after midnight on a Sunday and Emily starts writing.

_Dear Ali,_

_~~I wrote you a letter once, right before you disappeared and you’re probably never going to read it, since I tore it apart when Wilden found it and tried to pin your death on me. Long story. I don’t really want to talk about it but~~_

_~~I don’t know if you know this, but you probably do. Since you’re Alison DiLaurentis and you know everything about me. I loved you the minute I saw you for the first time, which was at the grocery store when we were like ten. You were so beautiful back then—you still are, actually. And you made me feel special, like I was flying most of the time and I~~_

_~~When you disappeared, it was probably the worst year of my life~~_

_~~When you came back, it was like God had breathed new air into my lungs~~_

_~~I love you. That’s all I ever wanted to say to you. You’re my everything, Ali and I don’t want to think of spending my life with another person who isn’t you.~~_

 

Emily rubs her eyes and groans. This isn’t working—the words aren’t _there_. She can’t say it properly. Her mind is jumbled and dizzy and she feels like she’s going to vomit. Ripping the paper into tiny pieces, she starts writing again, forcing her thoughts into the paper.

_Dear Alison,_

_You know that moment when you’re swimming underwater and the entire world slips away? Like the only thing that matters is being weightless and feeling free? I felt that way whenever I was around you. Like I was a mermaid and you were my ocean. You were everything to me back then. You were my best friend, my first love, my sun, moon and stars. Whenever you smiled at me, I felt the happiest. ~~And whenever you rejected me, it was like being slammed face first against the water without any air left in your lungs.~~ I shouldn’t dwell in the past since we’ve all moved on from it and we are not the same people we were ~~but I can still feel doubts whenever you pull away.~~_

_When I found out that you were dead for the first time, it was probably the worst moment of my life. Because even after a year of fruitless searching and praying and begging to some God for you to come back, I still had hope that you were out there alive and well and smiling and laughing. ~~Hell, you were probably in Paris with some other dude.~~ But then they found your body and reality crashed in. I could barely move on with Maya, and that took a lot of courage. Losing you was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. _

_I can take on –A’s threats any day. It’s a part of me. I will always constantly look over my shoulder and cringe whenever I get a text. Whenever I’m in the crowd, I’ll always look for a masked figure or a girl wearing a red coat. But if I ever lose you again, I don’t think I can bear it. ~~I lost you once. I can’t do it again.~~_

            _Now you’re here. And you’re back, and you’re with me. I still can’t believe it. Because you’re the girl that I spent most of middle school chasing after, fumbling on my knees just to get you to look at me. You’re the girl who constantly teased me, who chastised me for being who I am and I forgive you for that. ~~God, I forgive you for everything.~~ You’re the girl that I will never be able to forget, the girl that I will always, always want. _

_This is the purpose of the letter, I guess. I’ve slipped up a couple of times. ~~More than a couple, if you think about it.~~ I’m no longer the same girl who was too shy to say what she wanted. I’m no longer the same girl who wished for you to feel the same way, because you do. God, you already do. I’m not that girl anymore. And you’re not the same girl either, the same girl who snapped like a viper and had walls so high I could scarcely see the top. We’re different people now and we make different choices. I’m not going to make the same mistake. _

_I love you. That’s what I’ve always wanted to say. I love you more than I’ve loved anybody else. I love you more than there are stars in the night sky. I love you more than there are people in this entire planet. It might be an exaggeration but I’m serious. Whenever I look at you, there’s like this huge, swelling in my heart that I can’t contain. Alison DiLaurentis, you are everything to me. And I just hope that you feel the same way._

_Love, Emily._

It’s not enough but it will have to do. Emily grabs an envelope and slips the letter in, ignoring the way her fingers are shaking. It’s not perfect, not really, but Emily’s head is pounding and she still has to debate where to put in. Should she give it to Alison face-to-face? Or should she slip it into her bag? Should she even give it at all?

Emily stands from her chair and walks over to the bed, lying back down while facing the ceiling. Her letter is clutched tightly against her chest and she tries to even her breathing, because her lungs feel like they’re about to burst. Tears prickle the back of her eyes and she suddenly feels fifteen already over again.

Her headache is subsiding and she realizes, with a muted horror, that _she can’t do this_. She can’t scare Ali off. They’ve only been together for a few weeks, even if they have been sneaking around each other for years now. Emily’s love for Alison can never be compared to anything else, but she wonders if this is the right thing to do. Ali’s spending a weekend together with Jason and her father and if she comes back to find this letter waiting for then she might feel overwhelmed. That’s the last thing Emily wants.

Resisting the urge to scream, Emily decides that it’s too early. She’ll wait for a few more months, even if it is a bit agonizing. She stands up from her bed and crosses to the bathroom, throwing away the letter into the trash bin with frustration. It has Alison’s name written in Emily’s sloppy handwriting and she does her best to ignore it. Then she wipes off the tears from her eyes and washes her face, intent on sleeping off the aftereffects of that dodged bullet.

//

The next day, she forgets about the letter the minute Alison arrives at the front door with chocolate cake in hand, grinning so broadly that Emily forgets her inner turmoil the night before. They kiss, Ali’s mouth twisted into a smile and Emily can feel her shoulders relaxing at the skin-on-skin contact.

“Did you miss me?” Alison asks when they pull away.

“You have no idea,” Emily whispers.

“Want to head to the kitchen and eat this?”

Emily nods enthusiastically and they head over inside, Alison already talking about how her weekend went, and how her dad nearly sued the entire restaurant when the waiter accidentally spilled wine all over Jason’s suit. Emily listens attentively; watching in fascination as Ali perfectly cuts even slices of the cake, sliding a plate over to Emily and smiling coyly.

The cake is delicious but Emily can’t keep her eyes off Alison.

“What?” Ali asks suddenly, her eyes flickering towards her.

“Nothing,” Emily quickly says, aware that she has been staring now, “I just missed you.”

Ali’s smile widens. “I’ve only been gone for two days.”

“It felt a lot longer than that,” Emily admits.

Ali nods in understanding and as Emily continues to eat her cake, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom. Emily heads over to the living room to finish off her breakfast and turns on the TV for the morning news. She receives a text from Hanna asking to shop with her and Emily replies that she’s going to spend the whole day with Ali. _Hopefully_. She tucks her feet under her as she wipes off a few chocolate smears from her chin.

Alison comes back with the biggest smile on her face. Emily notices.

“What?” Emily asks when the blonde takes the plate away and sits on her lap, her smile widening as she leans in for a kiss.

“Nothing,” Alison mumbles, “I just missed you.”

 

**vii.**

It’s pouring outside The Brew and Alison has to be home in five minutes.

“This was a bad idea,” Emily says for the third time while Ali’s grabbing her bag from the countertop. They’re waiting for their take-out coffee, since Alison insisted that they have something warm to drink while driving over to her place. Emily doesn’t like the idea of Mr. D getting pissed off, simply because she wanted to spend the afternoon with his daughter.

Ali rolls her eyes for the third time. “Em,” she says exasperatedly, “It’s my fault. I’m the one who didn’t tell you that I’m having dinner with my dad tonight.”

“You’ve barely had time together,” Emily points out nervously, “I don’t want to ruin any development or anything.”

Ali smiles tightly. “It’s okay,” she reassures her, “Dad might be ticked off but he won’t scream at you or anything.” She pauses, tilting her head to the side and licking her lips. It drives Emily crazy when she does that. “He might even invite you over, if that’s what you want.”

The image doesn’t entirely reassure Emily and she fiddles with the hem on her shirt while avoiding Alison’s blue gaze. The thought doesn’t bother her but it does give her reservations. Mr. D has expressed his displeasure when it comes to the four of them, thinking that _they’re_ the bad influences, instead of the other way around. Emily doesn’t voice this out. Alison has dealt with this kind of parenting her whole life now and she doesn’t need to make it any worse than it already is.

Ali grabs her hand and leans in for a kiss. She’s been very straightforward with the PDA and when Emily asked, she said that it’s because she wants the entire town to know that they’re together. The admission pleases her more than she likes to think.

When Ali pulls back, there’s a furrow between her eyebrows. “You’re upset,” she says.

Emily meets her frown. “I’m not,” she mumbles, “Just worried.”

“It’ll be fine,” Alison tells her quietly and then their names are called for their coffee and she turns to take it. Emily’s hand slide away from hers. “Come on,” the blonde says, flashing a smile, “Let’s go.”

When they step outside The Brew, they’re immediately drenched within seconds. Alison gasps when the cold hits her and Emily tries to blink away the water from her eyes. The car is parked across the street but with the way the rain seems intent on blinding their view, they might as well be walking across one of America’s biggest thunderstorms. Wondering why on earth she didn’t bother to bring an umbrella, Emily watches as Alison darts towards the car in her haste.

“Ali, wait!” Emily calls out, shivering. She wipes away the raindrops from her eyes as she takes a step forward. Alison is in the middle of the street waiting for her impatiently, the water pounding heavily on her clothes. She looks ethereal, beautiful, like an unknown being whisked away from the whimsical world. It takes Emily a moment to realize that she’s flooded in the light of an incoming car and that it’s heading straight for her—

Instinct kicks in. Emily would’ve given up her entire life for Alison, if given the choice. She’d do the same for her friends, for her family, but there’s just something about Alison DiLaurentis that even Emily would’ve given up the entire universe for.

She rushes forward, grabs Alison by the waist and roughly pushes them both to the side. They land on the pavement and the coffee spills from Ali’s fingers and against Emily’s chest. The heat is scalding but the rain gradually cools it off. Emily doesn’t even have enough time to breathe before Alison’s pushing herself up on her knees and checking up on her.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Em, are you okay? Can you see me? Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Alison blabbers on, shaking hands gently coaxing the hair from Emily’s eyes.

“I’m fine,” Emily mumbles. Her back hurts, but nothing is permanent. Her shoulder aches from her past injury and she closes her eyes to breathe in more easily. Alison’s face hovers above hers, worried and anxious and Emily stares at her with a mixture of relief and wonder.

“You _idiot_ ,” Alison seethes, blinking the rain (or tears) from her eyes. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“From what we’ve been through, getting hit by a car seems like a mundane way to go,” Emily jokes. She gets into a sitting position and rubs the back of her head.

Ali smacks her arm. “This isn’t funny,” she deadpans.

“I know,” Emily murmurs. She glances back at the street, where a few people have crowded in front of the shelter of The Brew to stare at them idly. She gives them the finger and laughs when Alison makes a disapproving noise at the back of her throat. Their clothes are absolutely ruined, spattered with mud and rain but Alison’s still alive and breathing next to her and Emily wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“You’re still an idiot,” Alison tells her.

“And you’re okay,” Emily quietly whispers. She shakes her head, grinning. “If I ever find that bastard again, I swear to God I’ll rip his head off. Dude probably didn’t have a license—”

“Em!” Alison grabs her shoulders. She looks furious. “Stop it. He’s gone, okay?”

“He could’ve put you in the hospital!” Emily exclaims. The rain still hasn’t stopped, and when she opens her mouth to say more words, she can taste the water in her mouth. There’s a hint of saltiness there and it takes her a moment to realize that she’s also crying. Somehow, she knows that Alison can see it. “He could’ve seriously injured you or worse! You could’ve died, and I’d be the one standing here and having no idea what to do, because I’ve already lost you once and I’m not ready to do it again.” She inhales shakily, hating the fact that her voice has cracked. Ali is staring at her, expression unreadable. “You’d think I’d get used to it, but I haven’t. I can’t even bear the thought of it. And I know that you think it’s selfish, or conceited or really stupid but it’s true and I love you and I—I can’t lose you again.”

They are quiet for several long seconds. Emily can feel her desperation, her fear, her love in the air and Alison is still staring at her, eyes wide and full of an emotion that Emily can’t read. Then, almost as if they’re in some kind of a romantic comedy, she leans forward and kisses her. Her mouth tastes like tears.

“I can’t lose you too,” Alison whispers, when they break apart.

Emily gasps under the cold. She wraps an around the blonde and pulls her close, nuzzling her nose against Ali’s shoulder and trying hard to blink away the tears from her eyes.

 

**viii.**

She finally gets it right when they’re alone together outside The Brew, drinking coffee and talking about the movie they watched last night. Sitting closely next to each other, Emily has all the time in the world to watch the contours of her girlfriend’s face, admiring the golden curls and the bright blue eyes and the sly, sickly sweet smile.

Alison is in the middle of a long rant about the amazing technique of the cinematography in the movie when out of nowhere, the rest of their friends pop up. And it’s not _just_ their friends. Spencer has Toby following behind her like a puppy, Hanna’s arm is wrapped around Caleb’s middle, Aria and Ezra are holding hands and the three pairs are expectantly looking at them as if they’ve been cordially invited to their date, which they obviously weren’t.

“Can I help you?” Ali smartly says.

“Move over,” Spencer orders and the boys all grab other tables to form with theirs. Emily adjusts their seating arrangement so that they’re all comfortable. She finds herself sitting across Aria and Ezra, with Toby and Spencer on her right and Hanna and Caleb on the far left. Alison reaches under the table and squeezes her thigh.

“Hanna thought it’d be a good idea to catch up,” Aria explains, looking apologetic.

“Well, _duh_ ,” Hanna says, pointing at Emily and Alison, “I’ve _barely_ seen the two of them. They’re like rabbits in heat or something.”

Caleb and Toby both laugh, while Ezra grins and shakes his head.

“It’s true,” Spencer says, nodding along with Hanna, “I go over to Alison’s and instead I find a note saying: _Off to Em’s. Dinner’s on the fridge_. Now I get why your dad’s pissed off most of the time.”

“Hey, her dad _likes_ me,” Emily graciously remarks.

“Mr. D doesn’t like anybody,” Toby points out.

Alison snorts as she leans against Emily’s shoulder, throwing a sweet smile at Toby. “Well, _that_ part is true,” she murmurs, “but since he hasn’t threatened to sue Pam Fields, I can say that Em’s in pretty good waters.”

“Pun intended,” Aria mutters and Ezra laughs.

They order some drinks and food, which Ezra says is on the house. Everybody’s mood lightens and Emily finds herself grinning so widely that she’s surprised her cheeks haven’t cracked yet. Alison and Aria are talking about college and their options, Aria wanting a course that has something to do with photography or journalism, which Ali is interested in as well. Hanna’s asking advice from Ezra about interviews and such, Ezra pointing out the _do’s_ and the _don’ts_. Caleb and Spencer are talking about finding a suitable job for Caleb with his academic credits while Toby leans over the table to talk to Emily about taking a position in the army.

While they talk, Emily notices some things. Ezra’s idly playing with Aria’s hair while he listens to Hanna. Caleb is rubbing circles against Hanna’s back while he argues with Spencer. Toby casually glances over at Spencer over and over again while he smiles and laughs. Meanwhile, Alison occasionally squeezes Emily’s thigh, almost like she’s trying to assure her that she’s still there. It hits Emily right there and then that this is her _family_ —that after the hell that she’s been through, this is the reward that she gets. And it’s amazing, really, because everybody is deliriously _happy_ and laughing and smiling and just so, so alive. There are many things that she wants in her life but she’d never trade this moment for the world.

An hour or two passes by and Caleb and Hanna are the first to leave, saying something about grabbing dinner. Hanna hugs all of the girls while Caleb winks at Emily and Alison and adds, “Don’t be a stranger, guys.” Then they saunter off practically glued to the hip.

Afterwards, its Spencer and Toby, since they have reservations at a restaurant in Philly and they don’t want to miss it. Spencer hugs Aria, Emily, Alison and even Ezra. Toby offers a small smile to both Emily and Alison before leaving with his arm around Spencer.

Ezra stands up ten minutes after Spencer and Toby have left. He has to get back to Hollis, something about a job offering, and Aria follows after him. They say their goodbyes and Emily watches their linked hands as they walk away.

Ali bumps shoulders with her. “You okay there?” she asks.

Emily turns to look at her, still smiling. “Why wouldn’t I be?” she mumbles.

“You got quiet after a while.” Alison reaches forward and intertwines their fingers together. “Were you thinking about something important?”

Emily thinks of the twinkle in Aria’s eyes when Ezra leaned forward to kiss her, of the rosy color in Hanna’s cheeks when Caleb held her hand, of the genuine happiness in Spencer’s grin when Toby made her laugh. Then she turns to Ali and presses her mouth against hers, hoping against everything else that her feelings are strong enough to be conveyed into that single kiss.

Alison is breathing shallowly when they pull away, “What was that for?” she asks.

 _Guess not_ , Emily thinks, her smile widening. Instead of an answer, she squeezes Ali’s hand and says, with the utmost clarity in her tone, “I love you.”

She doesn’t take it back nor does she add more confusing words into the mix. She just _says_ it. Her heart quickens in its pace and she can feel the blood pumping in her veins more vividly than normal. Ali’s expression softens and her blue eyes carefully trace Emily’s face, almost like she’s waiting for her to say something contradicting. Emily doesn’t. She waits and waits, the heat in her face getting ridiculously high when Ali remains quiet.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Alison reaches forward and touches Emily’s cheeks. “Do you mean that?” she asks.

“Of course,” Emily whispers, looking into her eyes and finding all of her love mirrored, “I mean it more than I’ve meant anything else.”

“I figured.” Ali brushes their lips together and it feels like a promise. She pulls back and Emily is surprised to find tears in her eyes. “I love you too,” she continues, letting out a throaty laugh when Emily exhales a shaky breath she didn’t realize she’d be holding in.

They kiss again, their mouths perfectly fitting against each other. Emily closes her eyes and lets the feeling wash over her. She reaches forward, curling one arm around the other girl’s neck, pulling her close and breathing her in. Alison deepens the kiss and hums low in her throat. They kiss and kiss and kiss, until they feel like they’re no longer breathing anymore and when they pull away, Ali’s eyes are still full of tears.

“I love you,” she repeats.

Emily nods and smiles. “I love you too,” she whispers.

It’s amazing, really. Because she’s spent _years_ and _years_ chasing after Alison DiLaurentis, wishing and wishing for the girl to look at her the same way. And now, they’re sitting here outside The Brew, after spending time with their friends and enjoying the nice weather. They’ve been through hell and back but at least they’re _here_.

And it’s perfect.

 

* * *

 

  _fin_

 

**Author's Note:**

> We'll get through this shitty season, Emison shipper. Hang in there.


End file.
